


Scavenger Hunt

by Rach_98



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Cute, F/F, Flirting, Unknown Number, wedding cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 12:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15995186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rach_98/pseuds/Rach_98
Summary: When Clarke agreed to Raven's chief bridesmaid, she was expecting to be drunk and dancing. However, she spat in the best woman's face. Completely sober. And wants cake. And a mysterious stranger who gets her number wants cake, too.





	Scavenger Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! Please leave a comment on what you thought! -Rach

When Clarke was originally asked by Raven to be her chief bridesmaid, she was thrilled. Over the moon, to be precise. But now…not so much. With a huff she pulls out her phone as she sees Octavia on the other side of the room talking away to presumably Lincoln’s family.

 

 **Clarke:** How much wedding cake can you eat without worrying about a diabetic coma?

 

 **O:** Uh-oh. That’s not how a happy chief talks.

 

 **O:** Is Raven being bridezilla again?

 

 **Clarke:** I wish. Bridezilla I can handle.

 

 **O:** Then what’s the problem?

 

Clarke huffs when she thinks of her list of problems and immediately gulps a mouthful of wine.

 

 **Clarke:** I have a huge zit on my forehead for starters.

 

 **O:** Well slap some concealer on it. I have some if you need it.

 

 **Clarke:** Andddd my mom keeps hounding me. It’s like today is the perfect day to up the hounds.

 

 **O:** What is she bothering you about now??

 

 **Clarke:** Why I’m not fucking married yet. You and Lincoln are married and now Raven is too!

 

 **O:** Ignore her. You’re awesome!

 

 **Clarke:** Awesome enough that I spit water into the best woman’s face.

 

As Clarke rereads her last text, she lets out a frustrated laugh at the own actions and looks straight towards the wine once again. But, before she gets the chance to pick up her glass, her phone buzzes once again.

 

 **O:** OMG you didn’t?! Did you apologize?

 

 **Clarke:** Yeah. But…

 

 **O:** But what?

 

 **Clarke:** She’s the only attractive person here…

 

 **Clarke:** Under the age of fifty…

 

 **Clarke:** Who isn’t related to me.

 

 **Clarke:** Or your brother.

 

 **Clarke:** Can I dig a hole for myself with a spoon?

 

 **O:** Put down the silverware!

 

 **O:** I repeat, put DOWN the silverware!

 

 **O:** On a scale of 1-10, how bad was it?

 

 **Clarke:** Solid 12.5.

 

 **O:** Ouch. Really?

 

 **Clarke:** Did I mention I spit in her face?

 

 **O:** Unfortunately.

 

 **Clarke:** It may have come out of my nose too.

 

 **Clarke:** Where the fuck is that spoon?

 

 **Clarke:** Also, which direction is China?

 

After a minute of no reply, Clarke sets her phone down feeling hopeless as to how her night is going. As soon as her phone buzzes she instantly picks it up assuming the text was from Octavia.

 

 **Unknown:** How much longer until the cake’s served?

 

Clarke reread the text with confusion as to who could have possibly gotten her number. It was clearly from someone at the wedding so she immediately searched for anyone with a phone in their hand. No luck.

 

 **Clarke:** Who is this?

 

 **Unknown:** A fellow sympathizer who wants cake.

 

 **Clarke:** Is this Uncle Marcus?

 

Clarke glances around the room again.

 

 **Unknown:** You mean the one who looks like old Shaggy from Scooby Doo with a beard?

 

 **Unknown:** Nope. Not me.

 

 **Clarke:** Cousin Wells?

 

 **Unknown:** Are you going to name your entire family?

 

Clarke snorts.

 

 **Clarke:** Maybe…

 

 **Clarke:** Unless you tell me who this is.

**Unknown:** I don’t know…

 

 **Unknown:** Maybe I like being a mystery.

 

 **Clarke:** And I like knowing who I’m talking to.

 

 **Unknown:** Oooh. I sense a game.

 

 **Clarke:** What? No. No game.

 

 **Unknown:** Why not?

 

 **Unknown:** What else are you gonna do right now? Dance?

 

Clarke glances onto the dance floor. Its only occupants are her eighty-year-old grandparents. She lets out another snort. Well played, unknown. What else does she have to lose?

 

 **Clarke:** Fine. I’ll play a game.

 

 **Clarke:** But, just until the cake comes.

 

 **Unknown:** What happens after that?

 

 **Clarke:** I’m ditching this popsicle stand.

 

 **Unknown:** Now you’re talking.

 

Clarke unknowingly lets out a smile at her phone

 

 **Unknown:** Let’s play Truth and a Lie.

 

 **Clarke:** What’s that?

 

 **Unknown:** We each make two statements. One is a truth. One is a lie.

 

 **Clarke:** Okay, let’s do it. Who’s going first?

 

 **Unknown:** Lady’s first.

 

 **Clarke:** Okay. Here goes…

 

 **Clarke:** I’d rather be having a root canal right now.

 

 **Clarke:** And I’m a distant cousin to the Queen of England.

 

 **Unknown:** If you play like this, I’m definitely going to win.

 

 **Clarke:** What are we playing for?

 

 **Unknown:** To be determined.

 

 **Unknown:** I’m sorry, you’d rather be having dental surgery.

 

 **Clarke:** That’s sweet of you.

 

 **Unknown:** My turn.

 

 **Unknown:** I was born with a third nipple.

 

 **Unknown:** And I don’t eat cake.

 

 **Clarke:** I’m not the only one who stinks at this game it seems.

 

 **Clarke:** You’re lying about the cake.

 

 **Clarke:** EVERYONE eats cake.

 

 **Unknown:** WRONG! Point me!

 

 **Clarke:** What? No way! Where was your third nipple?!

 

 **Unknown:** A gentlelady will never tell.

 

As Clarke smiles at the text, she receives a notification from Octavia, who she completely forgot about.

 

 **O:** Hellooooo.

 

 **O:** Did you spit on another cute lady?

 

 **Clarke:** I’m playing a game.

 

 **O:**  Um, like Bingo?

 

 **Clarke:** No. I got some random text from someone who doesn’t eat cake.

 

 **O:** Are you speaking code?

 

 **O:** Am I supposed to come rescue you?

 

 **Clarke:** No, LOL.

 

 **O:** Are you drunk?

 

Clarke looks over at her half-empty wine glass. It’s only her second, but time has passed since her last sip.

 

 **Clarke:** Nope. Just bored.

 

 **Clarke:** Or I was, anyway.

 

 **Clarke:** Now go away.

 

Clarke pauses. She feels guilty for blowing off one of her best friends, so she quickly sends one last text.

 

 **Clarke:** LOVE YOU!

 

 **Unknown:** It’s a little soon for that, don’t you think?

 

 **Clarke:** Shit.

 

Clarke immediately feels blood rush to her face. She sent that text to her mystery woman!

 

 **Clarke:** OMG! Those weren’t meant for you.

 

 **Unknown:** So, you’re texting someone else? Am I not keeping you interested?

 

 **Unknown:** Guess I need to up my game. Should we try a scavenger hunt?

 

 **Clarke:** To where?

 

 **Unknown:** The first stop is the bar.

 

 **Unknown:** Wait ten minutes, and then tell the bartender your name.

 

Clarke glances at the time on her phone. Ten minutes passes at a snail’s pace.

 

 **Clarke:** Time’s up. Here I come.

 

 **Unknown:** I hope this is better than a root canal.

 

Clarke approaches the bar and does as the mystery woman says. The bartender gives her a knowing grin, hands her a rose…and a napkin. There’s something written on it:

 

_Go to the guest book._

 

She rereads it carefully. Then her phone buzzes.

 

 **Unknown:** Time’s a tickin’.

 

 **Clarke:** You’re not luring me away…and tossing me into a trunk, are you?

 

 **Unknown:** No way. There’s already in a body in there.

 

 **Clarke:** You better be joking.

 

 **Unknown:** Guess you’ll never know unless you keep going.

 

Clarke exits the wedding hall, the sound of the Electric Slide starting behind her.

 

 **Unknown:** You’re awfully slow for a former high school track star.

 

 **Clarke:** How did you know I ran track?

 

 **Unknown:** I’m an approachable woman.

 

 **Unknown:** People like to tell me things.

 

 **Clarke:** Especially people in this family. Right, Uncle Thelonious?

 

 **Unknown:** Haha. Nice try.

 

 **Unknown:** You don’t give up. I like that.

 

 **Clarke:** I’m not the giving up sort.

 

 **Unknown:** Good. That’s what I’m counting on.

 

 **Unknown:** Are you there yet?

 

Clarke stops at the guest cook and she immediately sees another rose. And another napkin. She immediately began to think whether she could flip back in the book and find her signature…

 

 **Unknown:** No cheating, Clarke. Tsk. Tsk.

 

Her head immediately snaps up, whipping around in search of her watcher.

 

 **Clarke:** Where are you?

 

 **Unknown:** Where you’ll eventually be if you pick up the pace.

 

She reads the message on the napkin.

 

_Go through the front doors._

Taking the rose, she walks out the entrance. The setting sun momentarily blinds her, but then she can see the bench by the fountain. Anticipation grows as she closes the distance. There sits another rose. And another note. But, still no mystery woman.

 

 **Clarke:** I’m a little disappointed.

 

 **Unknown:** Why?

 

 **Clarke:** I’m here. You’re not.

 

 **Unknown:** Sorry. I had to grab something.

 

 **Clarke:** This has been fun, but it’s hot as hell out here.

 

 **Clarke:** This dress is sticking to my skin.

 

 **Clarke:** You better have a damn good reason for making me wait.

 

A smooth angelic voice murmurs into Clarke’s ear from behind, immediately sending tingles down her spine.

 

“I do. I had to get you cake.” Pause as Clarke turns and stares into deep green eyes. “Because then you can leave here with me.”

 

Clarke was literally thanking herself for not drinking too much or she could have possibly spat into the poor woman’s face, AGAIN.

 

“Lexa?”

 

She nods.

 

“At your service.”

 

Lexa holds up the cake, topped with another rose and two forks.

 

Clarke is speechless.

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

“I do.” Lexa grins and it may be the most beautiful smile Clarke has ever seen. “Let us eat cake!”

 

Clarke laughs.

 

“And then let’s get the hell out of here.” Lexa adds.

 

Clarke’s cheeks heat with something else besides the hot summer.

 

“Where do you want to go?” Clarke asks.

 

“I don’t care. I just want to get to know you.”

 

“Wait! You said you don’t eat cake!” Clarke accuses.

 

Lexa lets a mischievous grin form onto her face.

 

“I guess I really do suck at that game.”

 

“I do have one more question.” Clarke says. “Before we dive into that cake.”

 

“What?”

 

“How did you get my number?” Clarke pokes her chest playfully.

 

Lexa’s grin widens.

 

“Raven and Anya. Raven said she’s sorry for being a bridezilla.”

 

“I think I can find it within myself to forgive her on this occasion.”


End file.
